It dawned slowly, as Angelyl didn't sleep all night.

Last night, Peggy took her to Fifth Street, which was Angelyl's first appearance among the nobles.

She certainly attracted everyone's attention, and aside from her graceful curves and flawless countenance, Angelyll's vaguely revealed temperament was the most amazing presence for those nobles.

——Sometimes like a girl, sometimes like a mature woman.

As a child, Angelyl fantasized about tonight more than once, and this scene almost matched her best imagination.

But strangely, Angelil was not as happy as she imagined.

Increasingly, she felt like a craft—a craft that had been painstakingly polished for seventeen years.

It's getting brighter.

It wasn't until the morning fog lifted that Angelyl got out of bed.

After a night of squeezing, her long hair that had been specially straightened was already very messy, but she didn't care about it, but tied her hair back indiscriminately, put on a black trench coat and went out.

She wandered down the street for a while, thinking it was time for Oreo to get up, so she ran to the breakfast shop to buy two breakfasts.

But when she reached the door of the office, she was surprised to find Oreo preparing to go out.

"Mr. Oreo."

Angelyl ran over quickly, panting.

"Your breakfast."

"Oh."

Oreo took his breakfast and tidied up his clothes for a while before speaking.

"The door of the office is open, you can help me deal with something, I may not be back until the afternoon."

"Good..."

Angelyl cautiously asked, "What are you doing when you go out so early?" ”

"Today is my father's death day, I have to go to his grave to see."

Oreo waved his hand and quickly rode away.

Seeing Oreo disappear to the end of the street, Angelyl pursed her lips and removed the office's signboard from inside.

She stared at the sign for a while, but she was not satisfied, so she took out a rag and carefully wiped the sign.

The streets are getting more and more populous.

Seeing Angelil busy inside and out, many people greeted Angelil.

"Miss Angelyl, morning."

"Miss Angelil, you're prettier than last time."

"You're so capable, Lord Oreo must be able to make it easier."

Angeliel didn't know these people, but she knew why they were so enthusiastic about her.

But the reason for this has nothing to do with her.

......

Turin is a crowded city for the living poor, let alone for the dead.

The cemetery area belonging to the poor is far away on the outskirts, and even military horses take half an hour to walk.

Except for the mud floors divided within the white line, there are no other ancillary facilities that can reflect the word cemetery.

Tethered his horse to the door, Oreo made his way up the winding path.

Graves sit neatly on both sides of the path, and for the poor who have died, the tombstones are the only sign of their wealth.

Most of the people's tombstones are hastily carved marble, and a few people's tombstones have gorgeous and delicate lines, which at first glance are from the hands of professional goldsmiths.

"Whew."

Oreo stopped, and he looked down at the tombstones below the mountainside, the gray stone monuments like a staircase, as if leading to heaven.

After looking at the scenery for a while, he lowered his head and threw the mud from his feet on the clearing in front of him.

There should have been a grave in the clearing, but for some reason the mound on the bones had been leveled.

In order to prevent some people from maliciously occupying this land, the ground is planted with dragon's blood flowers, a total of ninety-nine, which were specially planted two years ago.

Kneeling on the muddy ground, Oreo stared blankly at the dragon's blood flower in front of him.

To be honest, this attitude is a bit perfunctory.

But because of this heavenly humanity called father and son, Oreo is still fulfilling his duties as a son.

A thousand people must have had a thousand and one opinions about the deceased Lord Augustus Pravor.

In the eyes of some he is the initiator of chaos, and in the eyes of others he is the pioneer of the times.

His credit to an empire is unparalleled, but he is also nailed to the pillar of shame of that empire.

Regardless of these historical identities, for Oreo personally, his father is not really a competent father.

Even because of his excessive infatuation with his second child, Oreo still has a lot of grudges against him.

However, the mother died of dystocia when she gave birth to her second child, so the matter of the second child can be put aside.

Like many fathers, his father was busy with his career when he was young, and when he was old, he couldn't afford to step back from where he was now.

As a child, he was a frequent stranger.

When he was older, he was a familiar teacher who taught by word and deed.

Because his father was too strong, his death brought Oreo not only sadness, but more freedom than he had ever experienced.

Because of this freedom, Oreo chose to leave his homeland and live freely in the slums of Turin.

Later generations may call this experience an escape, but for Oreo now, this experience can be called leisurely.

Kneeling for a while, Oreo was just about to get up from the ground, but he suddenly noticed something, so he craned his neck and stared at the dragon's blood flower in front of him.

He planted these flowers with his own hands, and there are ninety-nine in all.

But he subconsciously counted it just now, and found that there was actually one more flower.

This is clearly unscientific.

Oreo stood up, bracing his knees and counting the dragon's blood flowers in front of him.

He counted it and checked it again, confirming that it was really a hundred.

The extra one was easily recognizable, it was crowded with the other one, and at first glance it looked like a flower.

Oreo stretched out his right hand, uprooted the dragon's blood flower on the left, and placed it in his hand to study it.

After watching it for a while, he muttered.

"Hell yes."